n a land where isolation was a common thing, there lived a wise old woman and her young ward. The woman�s name was Iona, and her young ward was called �Cygnet.� The villagers gave her that name many years ago, when she was found abandoned on Iona�s doorstep. As Cygnet grew, they tacked on the term �dwarf� before her name, because she was not beautiful like the girls of the village. Her hair was not golden as wheat, red as fire, brown as chocolate, or black as a raven�s wing. Her eyes were not blue, green, or brown. Cygnet was not as thin as the village girls were, but she was much stronger and often worked like a man with her foster mother.
This angered the village men and women alike. Cygnet was harassed and ridiculed wherever she went. No one would listen to Iona�s words of warning to the people for long, until Iona cast a dry spell over the village. From then on, Cygnet was only bothered when she was alone. Meanwhile, some of the villagers planned on killing Iona for defending �the ugly child.�
One early spring morning, Cygnet decided to head out for the forest. She knew how the villagers felt about her, and the �dangerous� forest was the one place where she felt welcome...and at peace. No one knew where she sat, and no one really cared, except Iona. The animals were not afraid of her, and the trees formed the cathedral where she often prayed for her own death.
Cygnet lay back on a moss-covered log and stared at the pattern of the branches against the flawless sapphire sky. A swan flew overhead, and Cygnet sighed. �I wish I could live up to my name. After all, Cygnets grow up to be swans.� Suddenly, she remembered that Iona needed her help back at the shop. Cygnet picked the berries that Iona needed and headed back to town.
The sky blackened with angry rain clouds as she began to run for the shop doors. Cygnet could sense that something was very wrong. She ran blindly for the refuge of that door, praying that Iona would be there. She would gladly welcome a lecture for her tardiness if she knew Iona was safe. But something told Cygnet that Iona was in trouble, and needed her help.
�Mother Iona?� she called as she raced through the door. �I�m sorry for being so late. It�s just that I---aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!� Cygnet�s apology ended in a blood-curdling scream. There, on the shop floor, lay Iona. Her wizened frame was covered in bruises and drying blood.
�No,� sobbed Cygnet. �Oh, God, please don�t take her from me.�
�Cygnet,� whispered Iona.
�Mother Iona! Thank God you are alive!�
�I cannot last much longer, sweet Cygnet. My time has come. I must ask you one favor...my dying wish.�
�Anything at all, Mother.�
�Run, my child. I have been murdered. The villagers have heard your cry. They will frame you.�
�No.�
�Yes, my innocent child. They have been trying to kill you since the day you were born.�
�Why?�
�You will understand in time. Now go!� Iona�s voice had surprising strength in its tone.
�But-�
�GO NOW!!!�
�Goodbye, Mother Iona.� Cygnet whispered as she kissed Iona and ran for the door.
�Until we meet again, my child,� smiled Iona.
Cygnet was nearly at the tree line when she saw the villagers heading towards Iona�s shop. Suddenly, one of the men spotted her. It was Leroy, the village bartender.
�Murderer!� he cried, his pale face turning as red as his hair. The mob of villagers turned en masse to look in the direction Leroy was pointing. Cygnet froze as the people leveled their weapons and began to chase her. Suddenly, she heard Iona�s voice in her ears. Run. GO NOW!!! Cygnet heeded Iona�s last words and raced though the forest she knew so well.
Musket fire echoed in the cathedral-like clearings of Cygnet�s former asylum. Panicking animals nearly trampled each other in a frenzy to get away from the danger. Meanwhile, Cygnet ran deeper and deeper into the lush forest. She nearly laughed as she heard the muffled curses of the frenzied mob.
Just as Cygnet felt she might be safe at last, the root of a very large oak tree grabbed her leg. Cygnet hit the ground hard, and welcomed the blackness that consumed her.
�Any sign of her?� asked the mayor when the lynch mob returned.
�None,� spat Leroy.
�Siriah!� cried Augustine the mortician, with a look of horror on his face.
�What the matter?� asked the mayor, Siriah. �Haven�t you taken care of the disposal of Iona�s remains?�
�We can�t find them, Siriah!� Augustine cried. �And there�s something at Iona�s shop that you have to see!� The three men ran to the shop, where they saw the entire village gossiping fearfully. The mayor pushed past the two guards at the door and stopped short.
�My God,� he whispered, �what have we done?� Iona�s battered body had been replaced by one word that seemed to be written in blood on the floor:
Ten years had passed since that fateful spring day. The village sat quietly now, the gruesome murder and guiltless Cygnet forgotten. Iona�s shop lay undisturbed, since the villagers were too afraid to even go near it. Siriah was still the mayor, Augustine was still the mortician, and Leroy owned half of the town. Life carried on, though a pall hung over the entire countryside. No one entered the forest, because they remembered the fear. They knew someone had disappeared, but they had long since forgotten who it was. They were blissful in their ignorance, and joyful in their false perfection.
Not everyone was happy, though. In a clearing of the forest, where the sky was a perfect sapphire and the lake was a tranquil mirror sat a gloriously beautiful mansion. Although it was everything a person could ask for, its owner languished with a broken heart. His hands glided smoothly over the keys, caressing them lovingly as he finished the last strains of the beautiful melody.
�And that ends the David Rosenberg concert,� spoke a voice from his computer. David stood and bowed before the camera that was stationed a few feet away from his baby grand piano. After a few minutes of wild applause, he shut off the camera, disconnected it, and checked his email. Technology progressed to the point where no one had to leave his or her house for anything, and towns had become smaller and smaller. Fan mail was sent over the Internet constantly, and David was alone, so he could answer the mail at his leisure.
�Oh, Shanna,� he whispered, �why did you leave me?� Shanna had been David�s fianc�e and lover. He had thought that she was his best friend, until she left him for his best male friend. Since the day she walked out of his life, he had not set foot outside of his home. After all, he kept telling himself that Shanna was just running an errand and would return soon. She�d call him a silly old fool for worrying, but he always did. She was a beautiful, vivacious blonde with china blue eyes and a waist that looked like it could snap in half if he didn�t treat her with the greatest of care. Shanna was pale and delicate, which contrasted nicely with his black hair and cappuccino skin.
�Time to close the curtains,� sighed David, though it was still early in the afternoon. Just as he reached for the drapery cord, a blur of white flew past the window.
�What the-!� exclaimed David as he ran outside. The bright sunlight startled him as he looked around wildly. Swans placidly swam upon the lake just outside his doors.
�Must�ve been one of those,� he muttered as he stared at the serene waterfowl. He was about to go back inside, when he noticed the swans were looking at him. David looked back at them, shock evident on his face. He had never thought of swans as particularly intelligent creatures, but these swans seemed different. They swam closer and closer to David, staying just out of his reach. David found himself venturing out further and further from the safety of his home.
The swans began to back away slowly, as if to draw him away. Enchanted, David walked to the water�s edge. A soft breeze made the warm shallow water lap up over his toes. David sat down, enjoying the sunlight and fresh air for the first time in too many lonely years. A swan slowly swam toward David, her white feathers slightly ruffled. He looked up, curious as to why this lovely creature was coming so close. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to try to touch it. Suddenly, the swan turned and flew away.
�Damn,� sighed David, �not even a swan wants to have anything to do with me.� Just as he was about to head back into his empty house, he spotted a girl sitting on the small island in the middle of the lake. Curious, David decided to slowly swim to the island to confront her. He swam around to the opposite side, so that she wouldn�t see him coming. As he approached her from the shelter of the trees, he heard a soft noise issuing from her shaking young body.
�My God,� he whispered, �she�s crying!� David crept closer and closer, being careful not to make a sound. Gently, tentatively, he placed a hand on her broad shoulder. Suddenly, her head whipped around, tears flying from her reddened sorrowful face.
�Who are you?� she cried, trying to back away from him. David placed his other hand on her shoulders and looked into her very frightened eyes, which were forest green from crying.
�I could ask you the very same thing,� he replied coolly, �but I won�t. My name is David Rosenberg. This is my house, my lake, and my land. I would very much enjoy knowing how in the hell you found this place, what you are doing here, and why you are crying.� Instantly, he regretted his tone. The fear in the girl�s eyes was obvious as she stood up and backed off, like an animal that was being threatened.
�Look, I�m sorry,� he said gently as he gripped her arm. �Please, tell me your name, at least.�
�My name?� she whispered softly. �Why do you want to know my name?�
�Because you are on my property. I think I have the right to know.�
�All right�but don�t laugh.�
�Why would I laugh?�
�It is an unusual name, and one that constantly reminds me of my ugliness.�
�I-�� David began, but was cut off by a very sharp swan call.
�I�m coming!� the girl called in an irritable tone and started off.
�Wait!� called David. �What is your name? I�m David Rosenberg.�
�Cygnet!� she replied as she disappeared in the trees. David ran after her, but could not find her anywhere. All David saw were several large swans swimming towards the lake�s shore. One lagged behind, looking back at him, or so he thought. The swan continued to lag behind until another, much larger white swan swam up next to her and let out a small sharp squawk. The smaller swan let out what sounded very much like a human sigh as she caught up with the others.
�Cygnet,� David whispered to himself as he watched the swans, fascinated. �That is an unusual name,� he smiled to himself, �but it is very beautiful�just like her��
�2/18/99 Rebecca Lynn Oaks (all rights reserved)
Last Modified: 11/18/2000 by Rebecca L. Oaks